Through Time Itself
by sconesRtasty
Summary: Gwen is on her way to visit her friend in modern-day Portland when something strange and unexplainable happens. Next thing she knows she is at a 1800's festival in England and is forced to stay with two kind girls named Elizabeth and Jane, along with the rest of their obnoxious family. And when three rich young men come to the festival,Gwen finds this story is strangely familiar...
1. Chapter 1

The streets were busy this afternoon. But that's what I get for deciding to walk on a Friday. I adjusted my grip on my rolling suitcase handle and waited for the crosswalk light to change along with the rest of the blob of pedestrians. With this many people it would take twice as long to get to Mandy's. A buzzing came from my pocket. I pulled out my phone to see she was texting me again.

::Where are you?::

I sighed and typed my response ::On my way stuck in foot traffic.::

In my distraction the blob of people had begun crossing the street. I hurried to catch up with them, my purse bouncing against my hip and purple suitcase rolling behind me. Being tight on money already (being a college student with a cheap boss tends to do that to you), I had decided to brave the seven-block walk to Mandy's new apartment instead of getting a cab. Plus I could use the walk after that flight. Even now I could feel the pins and needles being chased out of my thighs.

I hadn't been to Mandy's new place yet. She was so psyched about her new flat in Portland she had convinced her dad to fly me out here for spring break. I hadn't seen Mandy since last summer when we stayed at my parents house. She'd finally gotten a real job here in the city and had insisted she show me around Portland. We could use some hang out time after not seeing each other for so long. It would be nice, I decided as I made my way down the sidewalk. I could use a break from work and school and just hang out with Mandy for a week. I wouldn't worry about anything going on at home. This was going to be my stress free week.

The next few seconds went by so fast, even I have a hard time understanding what happened. I can't imagine what it would have looked like. All I know was that somebody's shoulder collided with mine, shoving me from the middle of the sidewalk to the outside. My foot stepped on a grate, or a manhole, or something. One second it was there, and the next it just... wasn't. I was completely weightless for a few terrifying moments; not quite falling, but definitely not floating either. Some sort of strange in between. I tried to scream, to shout, to make some sort of sound, anything to let the world know that something was wrong.

Until, suddenly, everything stopped. My mind couldn't process what my surroundings were. Everything was... off somehow. I blinked a few times. I was lying on my back on something hard and round, my arms hanging off the sides. I sat up to find myself on a tree stump and was surrounded by leaves. Every color of autumn covered what appeared to be a forest floor. Wild oak and aspen trees were scattered as far as I could see, and the sun was set in a early afternoon sky.

Why the crap was I in a forest?


	2. Chapter 2

I scrambled to my feet and looked around. The stump I had been laying on had a big X crossing the entire thing, a deep scar that met exactly in the middle. My bag was still slung across my shoulder and resting against my opposite hip, and I could see my suitcase not too far away from me. Not quite sure what else to do, I grasped the handle and set it upright.

Now what?

My hand brushed my phone in my pocket. I hurriedly grabbed at it and pressed the home button.

Nothing.

I tried again. The thing wouldn't even turn on. I held the power button, tried double tapping it, everything, but my phone just wouldn't turn on. I thought it had battery. Last I checked it was at at least half charge.

Well this sucked.

I opened my purse and checked to see that my charger was still inside. If I could find an building or somewhere with an outlet then I could try charging it. Until then I needed to find civilization.

Not really knowing what else to do, I began walking straight ahead. My suitcase wouldn't roll on the forest floor, but luckily a week's worth of clothes doesn't weigh much.

After about fifteen minutes I began to grow worried. At thirty I became anxious. Why if I never found anything? What if I was stuck out here and headed in the wrong direction?

The quiet of the forest was suddenly broken by the sound of hooves on dirt. A creaking accompanied it, like something on wheels being dragged. I jogged towards the sound and burst out of the trees to find a worn dirt path with ruts dug into it each side by passing wheels. And not too far to my left was an approaching carriage. Not all romantic-date-in-the-park kind of carriage. Like, full on square covered black carriage. With two horses pulling it.

People!

"Hey!" I waved my arms at the approaching vehicle. "Excuse me! Stop!" The guy sitting on top of the carriage car ignored me, driving past without a glance. I wasn't going to be put off that easily. I ran alongside the car, careful to avoid the spinning wheels on either side. "Hey! Stop!"

To my surprise but relief, the carriage heeded my calls, pulling to a gradual stop. The door opened, and I had to step back to let it swing completely. Inside where what appeared to be three women all in their early twenties, about the same as me. The one closest and presumably the one to open the door had fair skin and dark hair pulled up into a a woven bonnet. Her brown eyes observed me with no little confusion.

Another women with chocolate hair in a similar style leaned forward. "Pardon me, miss, but are you alright?" she asked in a polite British accent.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Actually, I could use a bit of help," I answered. "Could you tell me where I am?"

"Why, you're just outside of Meryton," answered the first.

Meryton? What's a Meryton?

The third women, the only blond of the group and wearing yet another bonnet responded to my blank look. "Meryton, part of the Hertforshire."

Something about that name sounded familiar. The realization dawned on my suddenly. "You mean I'm in England?!"

The first dark-haired woman looked around before responding rather obviously, "It would seem so."

"I'm sorry," I stammered after a second. "I was just in Portland literally less than an hour ago before I just... appeared," I pointed behind me, "in that forest. How in the world could I have gotten here?"

That grate. Or manhole, or whatever I had stepped on before I showed up on that stump. Did I fall? Could I have blacked out? Did somebody kidnap me and dump me in the middle of a British forest like some sick joke? How long would something like that have taken? I had arrived in Portland for spring break at the end of April, but from the looks of things it was in the dead of autumn.

"What day is it?" I asked the three weirdly dressed women.

"Tuesday," said the brown-haired one.

"She means the date, Charlotte," said the first before turning back to me. "September the fourteenth, 1813."

What.

The world spun for a second. "You mean..." I grabbed the open carriage door for support. "You mean it's the nineteenth century?"

The blond one looked alarmed at my sudden distress. "Dear, do you need to sit down?" Not waiting for a response, she stood and grabbed one of my arms. "Come on, Lizzie, help me get her inside."

They both helped me into the carriage and sat me down next to the dark-haired woman, my purple suitcase on the floor by our feet. "George!" the other brunette one called out the open door. "Take us to Longbourn, and be quick about it."


	3. Chapter 3

I settled into the seat next to the dark-haired chick (I think the blond one called her Lizzie) and tried to breathe evenly. These people were nuts. Looking around at their old-timey dresses and bonnets, the idea didn't seem so far fetched. Maybe they were part of some eighteen hundreds festival going on nearby and were trying to stay in character. I must have stumbled on a convention or something. Yes, that what was most likely going on. They sure went all out, though. This carriage was pretty nice, and the seats looked worn from use. This festival must be something.

The ride to wherever we were going was short. After a few minutes the horses slowed and the driver, George, promptly hopped down and opened the door. By now I had regained my composure and exited to find myself in front of a large square house surrounded by beautiful oak trees. Even in the fall there was leftover green in the flower boxes, and the sun lit up the stuccoed face and shone off the reflected windows.

I clutched my suitcase as best I could and followed the three into the house. These guys really put on a show.

"Mamá!" Lizzie called as we entered a entry room.

No other call was needed. A stout woman dressed in a lavender dress and shawl with her hair pulled into a white cap bustled into the room. "Jane! Lizzie! Who is this?"

"We found her on the side of the road not quite sure where she was," the blonde explained. Her name is... em..." They all looked at me expectedly.

"Gwen, Gwen Romelle," I introduced myself.

"Well, Ms. Gwenivere Romelle," the lady said, "Do tell, how did you get into such a state?"

"Well, um," I scratched my wrist. I didn't look that bad. "I was walking to my friend's new apartment in Portland, I had just left the airport. I stepped on something, and it must have fallen out from under me, but next thing I knew, I was laying on a tree stump in the middle of the forest with my stuff. I have no idea how I got here or... anything really."

Towards the end of my story Lizzie leaned over and whispered something to the shorter brunette one. Both the blonde and the older lady looked at me with similar expressions of awed confusion.

They didn't know any more than I did.

I sighed. "Just... Do you have a power outlet I can use? If I can charge my phone I can get ahold of somebody." Looking around I didn't see any immediately. Maybe this room didn't have any.

"Power outlet?" the brown haired one asked the same time the older lady ask, "Phone?"

This was going horribly. These people must be really dedicated to their characters.

"If you need to contact someone you could send a letter," Lizzie suggested. "It's too late to go today, but we can go into Meryton and deliver it to the post tomorrow."

"Sure, let's do that," I mumbled. They weren't going to let me recognize reality anytime soon. Maybe I'll stay for a day or two and see if I can find out more about the area, maybe sneak away to a normal town and get out of here. For now I'll play along. What harm could that do?

"You got any paper?"

"Yes, of course," said the blonde one (I could only assume she was the Jane the older lady addressed). She beckoned me to follow her into a dining room through the door. A nearby desk was set in a corner, and after rifling through a few drawers Jane withdrew a few sheets of paper, an ink well and... a quill.

"This should be a sufficient," she said as she placed them in front of a chair. "I'll get the wax melting so it's ready when you finish."

I sat down as Jane fished out a nub of red wax and a small bowl from the drawer and left through another door. I looked over what I had been given.

Oh boy.

I straightened the papers and hesitantly picked up the quill. The tip was a sharp angle and was made of an eagle's feather as long as my forearm. Or something that looked like it. I reached over and flipped open the inkwell, dipping in the tip cautiously. I didn't go in far enough the first time and had to give it a second try before I got any ink on the tip. After watching to make sure it didn't drip, I moved it over to the top corner of the paper. Not paper, actually. Parchment would be a better word. Slowly I began "Dear Mandy". I moved the inkwell closer and submerged the quill again.

 _"I'm sorry you're probably getting this crazy late. I promise I'm not a flake or anything, I was on my way to your place when some weird stuff went down. Somehow I ended up in England in an 1800's festival; everyone here's dressed strange and speaks funny. They all say it's September, and from the the look and feel of the atmosphere I believe them. I have no idea what happened. I just wanted to let you know I am ok, I just need to get home. No one here will acknowledge that this is modern day, so they're no help. My phone's dead, otherwise I would have called you. They have no outlets here either, so I can't charge it (lame). Please help me get home. They say I'm in some place called Longbourn. Supposedly it's by Meryon in the Hertforshire, probably somewhere in England, it looks like. I don't know if that will tell you anything, but that's what I know._

 _Please help._

 _Gwen"_


	4. Chapter 4

Writing with a quill was easier once you got used to it. I could get almost an entire sentence in before I had to get more ink. I blew on the letter and waited for the wet spots to dry before flipping it over and writing Mandy's address on the back. I had memorized it on the flight to Portland so I wouldn't get lost on the way there.

Some help that did.

I went through the door Jane had disappeared to and found myself in a narrow hallway with a few doors on each side. One of the last ones on the left was slightly ajar, and I heard voices coming from inside. Recognizing one of them as Lizzie's, I approached it, prepare to go inside.

"Absolutely not!" The older woman's voice rose suddenly, stopping me just before the door.

"But Mamá," Lizzie said in a much calmer tone, "did you see how she was dressed? Or how she spoke, or how she was acting? She's obviously not from here, she knows nothing about her surroundings. We can't just send her away."

"Of course we can, this is my home, isn't it?" The woman retorted.

I pressed to the side of the door and listened closer. It was obvious they were trying to decide what to do with me.

"Besides, as Lizzie pointed out, she has no idea what she's doing. Imagine what would happen if we were seen in public with her! A foreign girl with no manners or knowledge of society hanging about with our family? We will be the laughingstock of town! We must turn her out as quickly as possible, before she is seen with us."

"But Mamá, where would she go?" Jane's soft voice joined the conversation.

"Why, she can stay at the inn at Meryton until she receives a response to her letter. She can do what she pleases from there."

"Mamá," Lizzie's voice turned patient. "You don't think she will talk to others?"

Silence. She continued. "She has already ridden with Jane and I, both Charlotte and her driver were witnesses to that. Charlotte has already left for home. As soon as they get to Lucas Lodge she will be telling everyone there about it. They will be spreading news for certain. And the girl has been inside our house, received our aid, and is now sending a letter from our estate. And if the town sees our carriage taking her to the inn, especially dressed the way she is, it will only add to the gossip."

Their mother didn't seem to have a response for that. Lizzie finished her point, "Its too late to pretend we don't know her. Either we go your route and all of Meryton becomes suspicious of something strange going on. Or..."

"Or what?" The mother snapped impatiently.

"Or, we keep her here." Lizzie suggested. "We can teach her about life until we feel she is fit to come out with us. We will make excellent teachers, I promise. We will have to make up a story about her too, make her some distant relation who has come to visit. That way no one will question her staying with us, and after we teach her about life here, no one will suspect a thing."

There was a pause before the mother spoke again. "Fine," she gave up. "But she is sleeping in your room. Lydia, Kitty and Mary are already sharing one between them, so you will have to make room in yours. And she is only staying until she gets a response to her letter, that is all. No longer."

"Of course," Jane agreed.

"No longer," Lizzie repeated.

Their mother sighed. "I suppose I should go tell your father about these new plans. Lizzie, go find our guest and see if she had finished yet. And take that wax with you, she should be ready by now."

I didn't hear the rest of her instructions. The mom didn't seem to like me already, things would be worse if they found me eavesdropping. I made my way as quietly as I could back to the dining room and sat down at my place, trying to act natural. Lizzie walked in a few moments later as I pretended to be reading over my letter, her bonnet gone to reveal her dark hair in a bun with her bangs framing her face. She smiled and held out her hand for the parchment.

"We had a talk and made some plans," she said as she set down the small bowl she was holding and began carefully folding the letter. "You're welcome to stay here until your reply from your friend comes. Whatever you need we will do our best to provide you with."

"Thank you, that's very kind," I said politely, trying to act like this was new information. "I appreciate your generosity."

"I'm afraid we don't have enough space to give you your own room, so you'll have to share with Jane and I. I'm sure we have some clothes that would fit you, too if you want them." She held the letter flat on the table and carefully poured the warm wax over the fold, sealing the letter. A small stamp stood in the corner of the desk, and after pressing the rubber end into the wax she placed it in a bowl of water also on the desk. Red wax floated off the stamp to the surface as she waved the letter to dry it. She gave me a thoughtful look, and after a moment asked, "What do you call those?"

"Um..." I looked down at my pants. "Jeans?"

She nodded thoughtfully, though that perplexed look was still in her eyes. "Is this what you usually wear then?"

"More or less."

Another nod, though this one was a bit more determined. "We will have teach you then," she said. She placed the now dry letter on the writing desk and beckoned me to follow her.


	5. Chapter 5

We left through the same door Jane had led me through and up a short flight of stairs. The second door to the right was cracked when we reached the upstairs hallway, and Lizzie pushed it the rest of the way open. Inside was a simple double bed with a trunk at the foot and a wardrobe in the corner. A small vanity was pushed against one wall, and a window let in the warm afternoon sun. It was simply decorated; a few dried flowers graced the wall and a stack of books was piled against the windowsill. It was quite possibly the coziest little bedroom I had ever been in.

She opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and began rifling through it, occasionally tossing clothes onto the bedspread. A moment later Jane walked into the room, a pair of ankle-high brown boots swinging from each of hands. "I wasn't sure what size she would be, so I grab a few pairs," she said timidly.

"I believe some of these should fit her," Lizzie said, looking over the clothing.

She reached over and plucked one of the articles of clothing from the selection. "Here," she said, tossing it to me and pointing to a foldable changing wall in the corner. "Try on this chemise for size."

"A what now?" I asked, shaking out the fabric.

Both of them looked at me. "Oh, dear," mumbled Lizzie.

Jane smiled a me kindly and explained as she rearranged the thing in my hands. "It's a thin dress you put on over your basic undergarments. It helps keep the corset from rubbing."

"Ah," I said, now seeing the shape of a formless dress in the folds. I stepped behind the changing wall and stripped my street clothes down to my underwear. I pulled the dress on over all of it and checked the length. It was a very simple design, really. Thin straps formed a wide neck and met low in the chest, and the waist was higher than usual, more like an empire style, with a skirt that came about mid-calf. It was also thin, as Jane mentioned, and I felt rather exposed, even though you couldn't see through the material.

I cautiously stepped out from the wall, old clothes in a bundle in my arms. Lizzie's gaze flicked over me before she nodded. "Excellent, it fits her nicely."

The corset was much less threatening than I first imagined. When I first heard the word I though of whale-bone stiffness and impossibly tiny waists. This was like a much nicer cousin of that corset. It didn't have any bone in it; the entire thing was made of a stiff material that kept it flexible but still able to hold its shape. There were a few drawstrings in the back, but it appeared to mostly be for sizing. In fact, the only thing the corset appeared to do was act as a bra. After getting it on I realized that the support from the corset dug my bra wires into my rib cage, and since there wasn't anymore point in wearing it, I managed to wrestle it off and tuck it into my pile of clothes.

After that finally came the real dress. Most of what they had appeared to be in white or light pastels with plenty of embroidering. The one I was given was pale green with tinny white flowers embroidered on the hem and waist. This was thicker than anything else I had yet to put on, though not dramatically so. It hid the shape and ties of the corset and was longer than the chemise by a few generous inches. The dress was followed by simple white stockings that came to just below my knees, and then the boots (the second pair I tried on fit well enough).

As I was tying my boot Lizzie settled behind me and began expertly pulling at my loose hair, pinning it up to my head with an amazing amount of pins. My hair was naturally wavy, and she let a few of my bangs hang loose around my face in a style that was similar to theirs.

"You'll have to forgive mother," she muttered. "She's easily flustered."

"Don't stress about it," I brushed her apology off. "My mom's the same way. Being easily overwhelmed must be part of the job description."

Lizzy paused for a moment before giving a giggle. I don't know if it was my job comment or maybe my way of talking was different than she was used too. She seemed to think what I said was funny, but in a foreign way.

This was a really weird festival.

Once I was done up to their satisfaction I was finally allowed downstairs. The moment their mother looked at me she breathed a sigh of relief. "Now that is much better," she said, a hand fluttering to her heart before motioning me from the living room to the kitchen. "Now, dear, you must meet the rest of us."

There were more?

We passed through door opposite the one that led to the dining room and came into a sitting room with a few comfortable chairs and a sofa, the sunshine warming the air. Sitting at a small table in the corner were two girls threading ribbons through bonnets and giggling, and yet another girl sat on the sofa reading a book while the first man I had seen in the house browsed a bookshelf.

"Those two right there are my youngest, Kitty and Lydia," the woman said, pointing from the doorway where we stood. "There on the sofa is Mary, and that is Mr. Bennet."

Lydia and Kitty couldn't have been over sixteen or seventeen. Mary had thin glasses and a sour look on her face as she gave me a polite nod. Mr. Bennet was a man who had crows feet next to his eyes and looked contently at ease among his family. The girls went back to their various activities, but Mr. Bennet came over to our place by the door. "Hello, my dear," he said in a deep voice for a man with graying hair as he put a loving arm around his wife. "Let me guess," he said, turning his attention to me. "This must be our guest Ms. Gwenivere."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bennet," I said politely. "Thank you so much for letting me into your home." Well, if I was stuck here might as well brush up on my manners. Besides, maybe it'll make the lady like me more than she did.

"Yes, well, Mrs. Bennet has already informed me about your predicament, and I will have you know, you are welcome here as long as you need," he said kindly.

His wife stiffened slightly at his words, but her smile returned as Jane walked into the room. "Jane, dear, would you mind helping Gwen here getting her sleeping arrangements? Hill will have dinner ready in about ten minutes, and I wanted to speak with your father for a moment."

"Of course," Jane said, becoming me to follow. We went back through the door to foyer and up the same stairs. Across the hallway from Lizzy and Jane's room was a small linens closet. Jane piled a few sheets into my arms and carried a few covered pillows into her room. Lizzy was already inside, adjusting the thin mattress on a wood frame next to the wall. Together we put the bed together, and I slid my abandoned suitcase beneath the whole set up.

I was starting to fell a bit awkward. Jane and Lizzy made comments to each other and occasionally to me, to which I politely agreed and answered.

All in all, I felt horribly out of place.

A polite but attention-grabbing bell sounded through the house. I looked around. "What was that?"

"That's the supper bell," Lizzy said, giving me another strange look as I followed them back out the room. She'd been doing that a lot lately. "They sound for every meal besides tea."

Alright, that was enough.

"Hey guys, wait up," I said, stopping them just above the stairs. "I'm just going to take a second and address the elephant in the room. It's painfully obvious that I have no idea what I'm doing." I scratched my ear. "Where I come from, we live a much different life. Now, for the hopefully short time that I'm here, I would really love to 'fit in', if that's possible. And the only way I'm going to be able to do that is if you guys give me a hand." I took a second to look at both of them. "So, from now on, let's just pretend, like, I'm five years old and don't know a thing about life. Okay?"

Jane had a small smile on her pleasant face as she nodded, though it was mixed with a bit of surprise. They really were going to have to get used to how I spoke. I'm not sure how much of that I was going to be able to change

Lizzy, on the other hand, looked a bit... proud? I'm not sure if that's the right word, but she nodded anyway. "Come on, then, little one," she said in a sweet voice. "It's time for num nums!"

I couldn't do anything about my reaction. I burst out laughing at the phrase "num nums", Jane and Lizzy doubling over with me. And with that the awkwardness was broken. It was still there, just below to surface, but immediate tension was gone with that comment.


	6. Chapter 6

The three of us were the last ones to the table, still giggling from our outburst. Mrs. Bennet was luckily in an apparently deep conversation with Lydia (though Kitty arguably could have been considered a third party. She was practically on top of Lydia's plate in her attempt to catch every word they were saying). Mr Bennet was watching the whole ordeal with an amused expression, and Mary was trying to secretly read a book under the table, though she wasn't doing a very good job at hiding it.

None of them noticed us as we dropped into the remaining seats, me sandwiched between Lizzy and Jane. Already food was set out onto the table, mostly boiled vegetables with some sort of poultry as the centerpiece.

"This is your salad fork," Jane said from my left, tapping the outermost utensil on my setting. "You use this one for vegetables, and this one," she moved to the next, slightly thicker fork next to my plate, "you use for meat."

"This is called a spoon," Lizzy brandished it in front of me. "It's for soup. And your knife is to cut everything into smaller bits."

I bowed my head in mock reverence. "Thank you, oh wise one. Truly you knowest all."

Jane smothered another laugh as Mr. Bennet called his family to order. "All right now, let's say grace," he said in his deep voice.

Lizzy leaned over and whispered to me as we circled hands. "If you're ever unsure of what to do, just follow our lead."

I gave her a grateful smile before we closed our eyes and Mr. Bennet began the prayer. I was glad they were taking this seriously but weren't being too weird about it. Making all these jokes was helping, but already I felt like, with their help, I might be able to take on this whole crazy situation.

The bird turned out to be duck, to my surprise. I'd never had duck, but it tasted a lot like chicken actually. The salted vegetables were soft and a good contrast to the meat. It was some of the best food I'd had in a long time, actually. My college diet mostly included a microwave in some way or another. The homemade meal was incredible in comparison.

"So, Ms. Gwenivere," Mr. Bennet suddenly addressed me. "Where exactly are you from?"

"Um..." What was I supposed to tell them? When I told them earlier they thought I was insane. I couldn't make up anything; I didn't know enough about where I even was now.

I decided to get as close to the truth as I could without appearing too crazy to them.

"Well," I began, "I come from a city by the ocean called San Diego. It's... very big-"

"Oh, like London?!" Lydia turned her attention to me for the first time since I got here.

"Mm, yeah, a bit like London." I though about what eighteen hundreds London would be like. "It's... cleaner though. People don't get sick as often, and it's more spread out."

Lydia bit her lip excitedly. "And is there shopping?"

"Yeah, I guess there is. There's plenty of malls, and downtown is full of shops."

Lydia sighed dramatically. "Oh, how I would love to visit your San Del Eggo." She paused and turned to me again. "What's a mall?"

"Hush, Lydia, there are other things to learn about besides shopping," Mr. Bennet intervened. "Now, Ms. Gwenivere-"

"Oh please," I interrupted. "Call me Gwen. Nobody calls me 'Gwenivere' except my mother when she's angry."

Mr. Bennet let out a chuckle at that. "Alright then, Ms. Gwen. Please, tell us more about this fair city of yours."

I told them as much as I could. I told them about my apartment and what a mall was. I told them that I was going to school there (they didn't seem to surprised by that, though Mrs. Bennet referred to it as 'finishing school' instead of college). I told them that my friend had just moved and that I had been on my way to visit her when I blacked out and ended up here.

I didn't tell them about the plane I took to get to Portland. I didn't tell them about the car I drove to classes every day. I didn't tell them about how my phone didn't work when I got here. I didn't tell them how I lived and worked by myself. I didn't care if they were acting; I needed their help, so I appealed to their weird way of living and tried to immerse myself in their fake world.

Mrs. Bennet had begun shaking her head the more I spoke about my life in San Diego. Once I had finished describing how I came across Lizzy and Jane she clicked her tongue. "Well that will just not do." She said pursing her lips dramatically. Guess I know where Lydia got it from then.

Mr. Bennet threw me a look that said he was thinking the same thing before asking patiently, "What might you be referring to, my dear?"

"This whole story!" she exclaimed. "Don't get me wrong, dear, I believe you," she said to me. "But we can't have that story being spread about town. No, we need to make one up, tell everyone you're a relation of some sort."

"Yes, you can be our cousin," Kitty said happily.

"And what will we tell our real relatives when they come to visit?"

Mary said demeaningly.

Kitty deflated a bit, but Jane suggested, "How about second cousin then? And depending on who is visiting we tell them she is from the other side of the family."

"Excellent, Jane dear! You always were my smartest child," Mrs. Bennet said proudly.

Ouch. Favoritism much? But when I looked around, none of the other girls looked upset. Like they were used to it. Jane blushed furiously anyways.

"But where should you be from?" Mrs. Bennet continued. "If you're visiting you can't be as far as San Dae Meggo."

"What about London?" Lizzy contributed. "It sounds similar enough."

"Hm. Yes that will have to be it," Mrs. Bennet said thoughtfully.

"Right then." Mr. Bennet said, turning to me. "Then to all of Meryton, you shall be Ms. Gwenivere Romelle of London, second cousin to the Bennet sisters."

"Sounds good." I said, having finished my meal while they had discussed such an important subject. Mr. Bennet, having also done so, stood and announced that he would be in his study for a touch of reading. Everyone else finished their food not much after he left, and all five of the sisters made their way back upstairs with me in tow. Kitty, Lydia, and Mary all disappeared into the room next to ours, and I followed the older girls to the bedroom.


	7. Chapter 7

Once inside Lizzy threw yet another white dress at me. I groaned. "What, do we have after-dinner clothes too?"

Jane giggled while Lizzy rolled her eyes. "That's a nightgown."

"Oh." I said sheepishly. "Keep in mind, guys, I'm five years old, remember?"

"Well go get changed, dear, it's past your bedtime," Lizzy said, nodding to the changing wall.

A bowl was left on the vanity in the corner next to a pitcher of warm water and a bar of brown, corse soap. After changing into the nightdress Jane showed me how to lather and rinse my face properly without using too much water. Lizzy took out the pins holding her hair together and brushed the tangles out of it, holding out the wood handle and hair bristles to me when I finished drying my face.

"Oh, I have one, actually," I said, remembering my suitcase under my bed. I tossed the towel onto my mattress and retrieved the bag, unzipping it to reveal my toiletries bag. As I began rifling through my things, Lizzy came over and looked over my shoulder into the contents of my suitcase.

"Aha!" I pulled my hairbrush out victoriously. She turned her attention to the blue hairbrush in my hand.

"May I see that?"

"Sure," I handed it over. There wasn't much interesting about it, yet she looked at it as if it were from another world.

"What's it made of?" she asked.

"Just plastic, I think."

She looked at the individual bristles with the tiny balls on the end to keep it from poking your scalp, the cushion they were laid in, the handle wrapped in rubber, all with fascination. "Where did you come from?" she mumbled.

She didn't give me any time to answer. Instead she looked back up at me. "What else do you have in that bag of yours?"

I turned back to the little plastic bag and after a moment pulled out an elastic hair tie. Lizzy pasted the brush to Jane, who had come up next to her and was also looking at my stuff with interest.

"What is it?" Lizzy asked, stretching the rubber circle between her fingers.

"It's a hair tie. See, watch." I grabbed another from my bag and pulled my hair into a quick ponytail.

Lizzy watched in awe, and when I was finished she asked, "How did you do that?"

I showed both of them how to grab their hair and pull it through the band and how to do it do it stayed but it wasn't too tight. They caught on quickly and asked to see what else I had in my bag. We must have spent at least an hour going through my things, and when they finished with hair and face they moved onto clothes.

Jane held up a pair of skinny jeans from my bag. "How do you wear this?" she asked.

I looked up to what she was holding. "Those are pants. We don't wear dresses like this were I come from. We wear a lot of pants and shirts instead."

Lizzy started laughing. "You wear those on your legs?!" she exclaimed. "Why, they're nothing but pantaloons!"

"No, they're just pants!" I said good naturedly as Jane put a hand against her mouth to keep from laughing. "Men were stuff like that all the time here."

"Oh, so they're breaches then?" Lizzy asked, sending all of us into full out laughter.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day I woke up to blinding sunlight in my face. I groaned and rolled over on my mattress. I really needed to change my sheets. These ones were getting scratchy. And why was the sun in my eyes?

My eyes popped open. My window didn't face the sun in the morning.

And my sheets were definitely not this shade of gray.

I looked up to see Lizzie glancing at me with an amused expression. "Didn't hear the maids come in?" she asked with a shake of her head. "You'll sleep through a herd of elephants if they came through here."

For a moment I didn't recognize her. Than the previous day's events came back to me, and I grinned back. "Hey, my apartment building is noisy at night, I've been trained by my environment."

Lizzie squinted at me for a second, and I could tell she still didn't understand everything that I was saying (I don't know if 'apartment' meant the same thing as it did back home even). But she smirked at my comments and let go of the curtain she was holding. "Breakfast will be soon, we ought to get ready for the day. I think we will make our trip into Meryton afterwards to get your letter to the post."

"Sounds good," I mumbled as I swung my legs out of bed, the sheets tangling with my nightgown and bare legs. I looked out the window to see the front of the estate, the gravel path winding from the front of the house out into the trees. There was a field a little ways off, and I could see mist rising from the tall grass within it.

"What time is it anyway?" I asked.

Jane was at the vanity pulling her hair back into the same style as yesterday. "Later than it should be," she said as she placed another pin in her hair. "Probably around eight thirty. We've got to get down to breakfast."

Getting dressed was easier the second time around. Already I was starting to get the hang of all these layers, though Jane still had to help me with the corset. Lizzie handed me a light blue dress for today. "We'll have to pick up a spare dress or two in town today. Who knows how long you'll be staying with us."

"Oh, we can share, she's the same size as us anyways," Jane said. "You and I do it all the time."

"All the same, it would be good for her to have something she can wear while she's here," Lizzie insisted.

Jane rolled her eyes but didn't say anything else. Instead a cry came from downstairs. Already I was starting to recognize Mrs. Bennet's dramatic voice. "Mr. Bennet!" her shrill voice came all the way from downstairs.

I looked at the two sisters. "Is that something important?"

Lizzie shook her head as she rubbed some sort of lotion on her hands. "No, that's just how she sounds whenever she's looking for him." She stood and headed for the door. "We should probably get downstairs anyway, though."

Breakfast downstairs was different than last night. Instead the food was set up buffet-style along one of the tables against a wall. Following Jane's lead, I snagged a plate and began to take bits of what was layed out before me. There was cold leftover duck from last night, as well as eggs and smokey toast that looked like it had been set over a fire only minutes ago.

Mr. Bennet finally came through the door into the dining room, Mrs. Bennet following close behind. "But Mr. Bennet, don't you want to know who it is?" she exclaimed.

I sat down next to Lizzie and leaned over to Kitty on the other side of me. "What's she so excited about?"

Kitty looked at me surprised. "Excited?" she asked, seeming genuinely confused. She turned to look at her exasperated mother and pursed her lips. "Oh, I suppose she is." She turned back to her food.

"You only just missed Ms. Long," Mary leaned over from across the table. "She came for a short visit only to tell Mama that Netherfield has finally been taken up again. The new renter has already moved in and is expected to make his appearance this Friday!

Jane leaned over to where we were sitting.

"Taken up? By who?"

Mrs. Bennet needed no more invitation. "Thank you, Jane, I'm glad someone has the sense to ask," she said with a pointed look at her husband, thought it didn't last long before an uncontrollable smile broke out along her face. "It is a Mr. Bingley, a respectable young man from the north of England, a wealthy merchant's son. He makes over five thousand pounds a year - five thousand! - and guess the best part?"

"My dear, whether I want to or not, I anticipate you will tell me, with or without my consent," Mr. Bennet replied without looking up from serving himself.

"He's single!" finally burst out of Mrs. Bennet. "A single man of large fortune! What a fine thing for our girls!"

Mr. Bennet finally paused and turned to look at her from across the table. "Why in the world would this have anything to do with our girls?"

Mrs. Bennet looked personally offended. "Don't be so tiresome, Mr. Bennet, you must know I intend on him marrying one of them!"

"Ah," Mr. Bennet said before turning back to the layout of food.

Marriage? To a man none of them had met?

I looked up and down the table at the five girls sitting around me. Jane and Lizzie had to be close to my age, early twenties at least. Them I suppose I could see getting married. But their sisters were so young. Lydia couldn't have been older than sixteen. And their mother was planning for them to get married already?

"But Mr. Bennet, you must go visit him at once!" Mrs. Bennet's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Sir Lucas has already gone to see him, and you know he will already be making plans for Charlotte and Maria. We can't let a family like the Lucas' be getting ahead of us. Not when we have such lovely girls."

"By 'lovely' I hope you also imply 'silly', my dear," Mr. Bennet said as he made his way to the table with his plate. "Because I know that will be exhibited at the ball tomorrow night, if not sometime today." He looked down the table at Kitty and Lydia, who giggled guiltily.

"Mr. Bennet, did you not hear me?" Mrs. Bennet said as she came next to his chair. "You must go see him as soon as you can!"

"There will be no need for that," he responded as he attempted to pull out his chair with one hand.

Mrs. Bennet gasped and was, for a blessed moment, silenced by her surprise. She shoved his chair back into the table, and Mr. Bennet sighed.

"Mr. Bennet, you delight in vexing me," she choked out. Was she really going to cry about this?

Mr. Bennet smiled at his dramatic wife. "There will be no need for that," he continued as he pulled out his chair again and sat down, "because I already have called on him."

"Oh!" Mrs. Bennet's cry of joy almost made me jump. "Mr. Bennet, you are a good, kind soul!" she said as she threw her arms around him, only a moment later to pull away to shame him. "You take no compassion on my poor nerves."

"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least."

Something about those words struck me suddenly. They were funny. But also familiar. Why did that stick out in my mind like I had heard it before?

Why did it feel like I knew all of this?


End file.
